What A Beautiful Wedding
by Paradoxxia
Summary: Sirius is Remus' best friend...right? Only a friend? WARNING: More angsty than I usually write.


DICLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, or the Harry Potter world, or related characters, or blah blah blah. WOO! HELLO! THIS CONTAINS MALE-MALE LOVE! If that offends you, then don't read it.

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A breath. It all started with a breath, in more ways than one.

He was resting his forehead on the mirror, a pool of molten silver. Hazel eyes closed tiredly, after seeing too much pain. Both palms rested either side of his face, spread out and accepting the coolness beneath them.

The eyes flicked open, their vision blurred and disoriented with proximity. Remus puckered his lips and blew gently on the mirror, creating a cloud on its surface, a flaw on reflection.

Without thinking, his head went back, his hand moved, and a moment later, there it was.

RL + SB

Written on to the mirror clearly amongst the fog of breath. It was a secret, an agony, a hope, a pain, a joy and so much more. Remus watched the cloud diminish and fade away, taking the words with it.

Hazel eyes closed once more, and once more forehead leant against the mirror. Remus paused, trying to blank his over-cognitive mind and drink in the surroundings. A steady drip of the tap screamed _Sirius_ to him. The steamy heat enveloped him in an embrace. The smell of bath oils and bathing flooded his nose.

Soundlessly, Remus pulled back again to look into the parallel world reflected in the silver. He imagined- for a second- that the Remus staring back at him wasn't a reflection at all. It was an old fantasy. The TwinRemus staring back at him was from another world, another universe, where everything was the same…only a little different. In a few seconds, RealRemus would see TwinRemus being taken into Sirius' arms, and the two would share a kiss. RealRemus had to be without Sirius, just so TwinRemus could have him in his world.

Was there something different about that Remus? Were his eyes brighter, holding a secret? Was his hair messier, tousled from love? Was that even a reflection of him? Maybe Remus didn't look like that at all. Maybe Remus was gorgeous, and the mirror didn't reflect him properly. Maybe when people looked at Remus, all they saw was a fake image.

It started with a breath.

It continued with some luck.

Odd how it happened. At that moment in time, what Remus had considered his most unlucky flaw had created the luck. Werewolf.

He knew that scent.

The masculine, strong, musky scent that was Sirius. The _essence_ of Sirius. Daring, unique, and powerfully addictive.

Just how many times had he smelt that scent? When Sirius hugged him. When Sirius had borrowed some of his shirts. And that first time.

The very first night of Hogwarts. Sirius had already snuck out of the common room, and was returning to the dormitory. He had fallen over, collapsing on Remus' bed by mistake. Remus had woken up with the foreign sensation of a body on top of his. He would have screamed, but a hand pressed over his mouth, and he found himself looking into desperate blue eyes. Immediately, they both saw the funny side and caught the giggles. The start of a friendship.

And then, times afterwards, when Sirius had had a nightmare, he would crawl into Remus' bed. He would snuggle up close, and fall asleep, a child taking refuge with his friend from fear. But he passed the fear onto Remus. Fear of these feelings he was creating.

Remus shifted his gaze, looking deeper into the mirror, seeing Sirius reflected behind him. Their eyes locked. Remus turned to face him, silently. Sirius walked over to the Remus, coming close; too close. Eye contact still smoldering, Sirius stopped mere inches away. Remus had to look into those eyes, feel his breath, feel the body heat, and remember what he couldn't have. Remember he wasn't good enough for him. Remember that he was sick, and wrong to even think of a boy, let alone his best friend, like that.

It continued with a repeat.

Sirius hands raised either side, trapping Remus between his arms. Without thinking, Remus turned so his back was against Sirius, facing the mirror too, and closed his eyes. If Sirius moved his arms, they would be hugging. If, if, if…Pressed against Sirius…if, if, if…trapped in his arms…

Sirius' cool breath blew onto the mirror, in the exact spot, revealing the secret that had been written before. RL + SB

And there it was.

Wordlessly, soundlessly, Sirius took Remus' hand and led him into the dormitory. Remus was confused, but silent, and enjoying the sensation of Sirius' hand too much. When Sirius pressed his lips to Remus', it was tender and gentle, like Remus had never imagined. There was a patience in the air as the two boys sat on the bed and kissed. It was innocent, and sweet, and everything that was right. They made love there on that bed, speaking no words.

Remus lay in Sirius' arms, listening to his own thudding heart and his breathing. _I love you,_ was every exhale, every inhale holding it back.

It continued with a wait.

When Remus woke up after that night, he had been alone. He had reveled in the memory, and eventually gone to breakfast. Sirius had said nothing, done nothing, barely acknowledged him. _He's waiting for the right time,_ Remus told himself.

When he saw Sirius harshly kiss other girls, boast about it to the other boys, he always broke a little. Just a little bit. _Just waiting,_ he kept repeating.

And then, over the next few days and weeks and months, Sirius was just normal. As though nothing had ever happened between the two of them. Remus began to even doubt it had, until that day Sirius had fixed him with a intense gaze.

They had made love again that night. Warmly, caringly, speaking no words again. Afterwards, Sirius had kissed Remus on the nose, and fell asleep with their bodies entwined.

And over the years, it had happened again and again. Always exactly the same. Remus didn't know why he did it. He didn't know why he never just stood up and asked what was happening. He supposed it had to do with the fact that he was in love with Sirius.

So it went on. Something so innocent, yet so guilty. Remus knew Sirius was just waiting for the right time to confess. He didn't _really_ want to kiss that girl…Remus wasn't _really_ jealous. Because when night fell, the boys would climb into each others beds and fall asleep in each other's arms, or spend their time naively exploring each other's bodies. No words were ever spoken.

And yet, it wasn't the epic love described in books, and stories. It wasn't the epic heartbreak either. It wasn't perfect. The lovemaking was inexperienced, tender, shy. The heartache was always there. Not agonizing pain, just a little rip, a little tear, a little reminder.

It went on with some courage.

"What are we, Sirius?" Remus had whispered that fateful night, that last night. The end of the seventh year. His eyes were closed tightly, his nerves screaming from Sirius' touch. When his eyes opened again, he found Sirius' piercing ones staring deep into his own. There was an ingenuousness, a purity, of unknown regions in them.

"You're my best friend, of course." Sirius had whispered, with an air of surprise. He gave a smile that wasn't his usual cocky grin, but rather something else.

-x-x-x-x-x-

(Can't help but to hear an exchanging of words)

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"What a beautiful wedding."

And Remus closes his eyes, and he lets the words wash over him, and imagines it's Sirius. He doesn't know why he does it.

Maybe it's because it is the only thing that keeps him going. He kids himself these are Sirius' lips, this touch is from his best friend. But its not the same.

Maybe it's because he knows what its like to love someone and not have your love returned. So he tells Tonks he loves her.

Maybe its because he's a coward. He's tried every excuse in the book, but she insisted, and he gave in.

Or maybe it's because he's tired. He's so very, very tired of this. This life that's a lie, this twisted web of untruths. Tonks loves him, he loves Sirius, Sirius is dead.

He was sure Sirius never loved him anyway.


End file.
